


Eyes Shut

by babybrotherdean



Series: 365 Challenge: 2016 [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Demon Deals, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-07-11 12:18:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7050655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babybrotherdean/pseuds/babybrotherdean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean has one hundred and forty-seven days left to live on this Earth, and his little brother will hardly spare him a glance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eyes Shut

**Author's Note:**

> My entry for the May [SPN Writing Challenge](http://spnwritingchallenge.tumblr.com/). 
> 
> Prompt: _Call Me When You’re Sober - Evanescence_
> 
> (This was also part of my 365 challenge for 2016, for day 152 at the end of May.)

Dean has one hundred and forty-seven days left to live on this Earth, and his little brother will hardly spare him a glance.

It seems, lately, that every moment of Sam’s time is devoted to tracking down some way to get Dean out of his deal. Healers, witches, other demons; he’s even turned his sights towards finding the one holding his contract as if there’s any hope of saving Dean from his fate. It was one thing to play along at first, but the longer time wears on, and the closer to his due date they get, the more Dean wants to focus on getting what little he can out of the time he’s got left.

But Sam’s fixation is entirely counterproductive to that goal. Dean thinks his brother’s more scared of this than he is, right now- thinks maybe he’s still wallowing in shock, in a sense that this isn’t really real the way the rest of their lives are- and it’s wearing on him. driven him towards the bottle and increasingly more desperate attempts to get Dean out of this.

Sam hasn’t even touched him in weeks- not really- and finally, one night when he’s actively rejected in favour of a dusty old book about demon lore, Dean has had enough.

He doesn’t mean to make as much noise as he does standing up, but the chair’s feet scrape obnoxiously across the motel’s floor when he stands and then Sam’s looking at him, brow pinched with confusion. “Where are you going? S’more work to do.”

“Yeah, well you seem eager enough to do it all by yourself.” Dean doesn’t let himself look, just focuses on grabbing his jacket and his boots. He isn’t really sure where he’s going, but anywhere sounds more appealing than this. “I’m going out.”

Maybe it’s too much for Sam to process when he’s barely slept in weeks- when his waking hours have been devoted to diving head-first into hunting and research- but he stays quiet right up until Dean gets to the door. Speaks quietly, just enough for Dean to catch at all. “I’m trying to help you.”

And Dean pauses for a few seconds, fingers tight on the doorknob. “Yeah, well you’re giving the wrong kind of help,” he mutters. “Let me know when you figure it out.”

He doesn’t wait for an answer because his heart already feels too heavy, and then he’s out the door, hands shoved deep in his pockets as he starts towards the bar at a brisk pace. He’s a hypocrite, but who cares when every breath draws him closer to eternal torture?

The bar’s not crowded yet, still early in the evening, but Dean sits down, anyways. Gestures for a beer and wonders if he’ll buy himself a few extra seconds of life with the way time blurs when he’s buzzed, or if it’s just wasting his time the way he’s been doing for the last six months or so. He can’t help but be bitter about the way Sam’s been helping there- knows it isn’t fair, but wishes his brother could just listen to him.

Dean’s not sure how much time passes like that. Patrons come and go, some more tables fill up. A couple girls smile at him but he’s too tired to return the favour and they quickly lose interest, so he remains by himself, nursing his second beer soon enough. He’s ready to ignore the person who eases onto the stool beside him, but there’s a choking familiarity to the presence and he doesn’t bother.

“You’re mad at me.” Sam sounds quiet and hurt, the way he did when he was little and Dean gave him the cold shoulder over a broken toy. “I’m just tryin’ to help you, Dean. Get you out of your deal, yeah? I don’t get what-”

“You can’t get me out of it.” Dean doesn’t look up, eyes dull as he watches the amber liquid slosh in its glass. “It’s a done deal, Sam. Any work-arounds, any loopholes, and my contract is null and void. You- you just drop dead again, just like that.” Snorts softly. “And I ain’t letting that happen.”

Sam doesn’t reply for a few seconds, and finally, Dean glances up. His brother’s looking away, down towards the counter, lower lip caught between his teeth, and finally, he speaks again. “I just want to help you.” Looks up to meet Dean’s eyes and looks young and vulnerable. Dean wants to take that away, to make Sam feel safe again, but he doesn’t know how anymore. Not in all this mess. “Tell me how to help you, Dean.”

So Dean sits and he thinks and he chews slowly on the inside of his cheek. Can he even put it into words? The desire to make the most out of the time he has left, to spend as much of it as possible with the most important person in his world? He’s never been good at voicing feelings like this, but- but it’s not like he’s got much time left to figure it out.

Instead, he reaches out, just under the counter’s surface, to catch one of Sam’s hands. His own is damp with his drink’s condensation, but Sam doesn’t seem to mind as their fingers curl together tightly. Dean swallows hard, meets Sam’s eyes once more. Tries not to think about his seconds ticking away.

“Just- let’s just make it good, okay?” It’s hard to smile but Dean manages, even if it’s a little crooked. “Never did get to see the Grand Canyon, huh?”

Sam’s smile is too watery but Dean soaks it up. It’s the first one he’s seen in days. “Guess not. You, um- you wanna?”

And Dean nods, and he doesn’t let go of his brother’s hand the whole way back home. Things are a little softer and a little easier then, even if the ever-approaching deadline weighs heavy on Dean’s heart.

Sam’s got this way of making it a little lighter.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
